(childhood) tales of zuko
by Palindromes Rock
Summary: One shots of Zuko's childhood. Haven't you ever wondered how he dealt with his disapproving father and cruel sister? Haven't you wondered how he picked up the skills of the Blue Spirit without anyone knowing? See glimpses of Zuko's unscarred childhood and the early years of his travels after on his ship. Warning: not in chronological order.
1. first flame

1: First Flame

Eight year-old Zuko ran excitedly to the turtle-duck pond, where he knew his mother would be waiting. "Mom! Mom!" He shouted.

Lady Ursa looked up calmly with a gracious smile, "yes Zuko? What's got you so excited?"

Zuko grinned, "I found my fire, Mom!" He proceeded to spin in a funny little dance and the fire that burst from his fingers wreathed around him and danced too.

Ursa clapped and Zuko calmed, dimming the fire to just a small ball in his hands.

"Wonderful, Zuko." Ursa complimented. "I'll see to the arrangements and you'll start learning how to bend."

Zuko sighed, looking downcast, "but Azula's already been bending for two years. She'll laugh at me even more because I'm behind." He frowned and the fire in his palms flared out wildly with his distress.

Zuko watched wide-eyed as the fire billowed out and-

Ursa sliced her arm down in front of her face to shield herself, but the immature fire still caught on her sleeve and burned her hand before she could put it out completely.

"Mom!" Zuko cried, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to!" He backed up a step in preparation to flee.

"Zuko" Ursa said sternly, but not unkindly, "it's alright." She gently put her injury into the pond, to cool and cleanse it. "It is not bad."

Zuko shivered, tears still in his eyes, "but I burned you! Maybe I shouldn't-"

Ursa cut him off more harshly, "Zuko. Fire burns, that is its nature, but it also gives warmth and light and comfort. Every young fire bender has at one point lost control of the flame that is because fire has it's own life. Learning to bend is learning to control the flame."

"But what if I can't control it", Zuko fretted, "what if I burn some one by accident again?" He shuffled his feet, "maybe Azula's right and I'll never be a good fire bender, so why should I try…."

Ursa sighed, "You have heart, my son, you have compassion, what you need now is confidence. Determination, will, and confidence are what will help you control your flame while strong emotions will feed it. You feel deeply, Zuko, so your fire will be lively and strong. You will have to work harder to control it."

Zuko frowned, "but… I burned you…."

"Fire is dangerous, but it is still a gift." Ursa said, "look at the sun, from which we draw our power, it is fire."

Zuko stared up towards the sun, "it's really bright."

Ursa laughed, "it is. It can burn if one stands in it too long, but it also feeds the plants and makes them grow. In the dark it chases away fears and nightmares. Let what your fire could be chase away these doubts in you and it will not burn against your will."

Smiling, Zuko sat down by his mother at the edge of the pond and called a new flame forward. Only the size of a candle, it flickered in time with Zuko's breathing.

Reaching her arms around him, Ursa cupped his hands in hers, holding the flame with him. "Fire brings life" she murmured, "from our volcanoes it brings new stone from which plants grow even greener. Fire is life, so never deny its place in you. To deny your fire would be to abandon life. _Your fire is beautiful_."

Ursa smiled and Zuko smiled with her, both content to watch the small flame dancing in his palm.


	2. an advantageous trade

2: An Advantageous Trade

Azula leaned against the wall, watching her brother play with knives again. "A real bender doesn't need anything but their bending." Azula taunted, "feeling like you need to make up for your inadequacies?"

Zuko scowled, but kept his concentration on tossing and catching the knife just right, feeling the way it sliced through the air, and learning just how much of a wrist flick he needed to send its weight spiraling perfectly through the air.

Inspecting her nails idly, Azula smirked. "Maybe you weren't meant to have bending at all; it's not like you can really control even those pathetic fairy lights you call flames."

A flash of light and a thud in the wall next to her head sent the princess jerking away from the wall. Her face was frozen with wide, shocked eyes and for once she felt real fear.

The knife Zuko had been 'playing' with was imbedded a good two inches into the hard wood wall. Trembling with rage, Zuko stalked towards her. "Even a master bender can fall prey to a non-bender with skilled aim", Zuko growled, "and we both know there are techniques to steal bending, even if just temporarily." He dug the knife out of the wall and stormed away.

Azula watched her brother's retreating back thoughtfully. Her eyes hardened and she frowned. "Apparently I must speak with Mai, she's been giving my brother an advantage." The princess muttered to herself.

…

The next demonstration of skill before their father was as disheartening for Zuko as it was victorious for Azula.

She showed her superior fire bending prowess and her new skill at knife throwing.

Zuko swallowed his complaint of "I learned that first!" To once again be humiliated by not being as good at bending as his younger sister. Even though his knife throwing skill was slightly better, the bending was what mattered to their father.

Glaring as he met his sister's haughty smirk, Zuko vowed that the next weapon he learned would be his secret. If Azula didn't know about it, she couldn't take away his pride by mastering it faster. She would too, just to spite him. Zuko's fists clenched in his lap. He would master blades and then _he_ would be _better_ at something than Azula. It could be his trump card.

His little secret


	3. morning of misgivings

3: Morning of Misgivings

The first time he awoke and found no servant to attend to him, Zuko was annoyed by the inconvenience, but not angry otherwise.

 _After all_ , he thought, _servants have families too; maybe there was an emergency or something…._ And so, he resolved that he would prepare himself for the day. Peasants did it all the time, right? Surely royalty could too.

Dressing himself was rather straight forward, even for a prince who had always had others clothe him. It was just a matter of getting the layers lined up. First the trousers, then the shirt, tucking it in comfortably so the material didn't bunch or catch, then a tunic vest tied with an obi. Last: socks and boots.

It didn't take very long; in fact Zuko entertained the idea that putting clothes on himself was faster than when a servant did it.

Looking in the mirror, Zuko gave a pleased grin and smoothed the vest.

He was secretly glad that he didn't have to be dressed formally today; armor would be far more difficult to get on alone, especially ceremonial armor.

The real difficulty came when Zuko tried to tie his long hair up into the traditional topknot.

His hair was soft and thick, but easily fell into order with the gentle application of a comb to tease out knots. Putting the hair up and getting it to remain that way was the problem. No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to get the ribbon sturdy enough to keep the topknot neat. It just kept loosening or strands of hair would escape.

Growing frustrated, Zuko twisted his bundle of hair and tied the ribbon around it.

It wasn't a topknot, but it was a high ponytail, which was close enough.

Grumbling, Zuko ceded that at least this time the hairdo was holding, though it looked a little off to the left, at least he wouldn't be getting strands falling into his eyes during training.

Sighing, Zuko left his chambers and made for the dining room, he supposed that it would be prudent to ask his usual servant to send a replacement if he couldn't be there himself. At least then there would be somebody who could do his hair.

"What's wrong, Zuzu?" Azula sang as she glided into the room. "Did your servant forget how to do your hair?"

"I just wanted to try doing it myself today!" Zuko snapped, crossing his arms and pouting sourly.

Azula hummed, leaning in so their faces were only a few inches apart, "somehow I think you look better when you're not symmetrical, Zuzu, maybe you should do your hair like that every day."

Zuko brushed away her teasing. Tomorrow his attendant would return and everything would be normal again.

…

There was no servant the next morning.

Sighing, Zuko slipped out of bed and got dressed. He glowered at his comb, but set to work on his hair again. It seemed to take even longer than the first day, but he managed to wrestle it into a tail again.

Stomping from his room in frustration, Zuko didn't notice that his hairdo was better centered than the previous day.

Azula sending him a smug smirk just rekindled Zuko's rage. Her careless, but obviously scripted, tossing of her bangs made the young prince pause.

Somehow he knew that his missing servant was due to his sister's machinations. The temptation to confront her flared briefly, then Zuko realized that doing so would be to admit that he needed a servant's aid just to get dressed decently.

Eyes narrow and temper settled to cold determination, Zuko raised his chin and met the princess' amused gaze.

"I'll assume you're behind the loss of my servant?" Zuko asked, then continued before Azula could turn the question against him, "it's alright, I understand that perhaps you required the extra assistance." Without elaborating further, in order to keep the insult as potent as possible, Zuko turned and calmly left.

He didn't see Azula's face flush red or her clenched fists as he walked away.

…

By the end of the week Zuko was no longer surprised by the lack of aid in the mornings.

He also no longer grew annoyed or frustrated, but would dress with stoicism and fuss with his hair until it was acceptably tied up.

As the weeks stretched on his hands grew surer and it took less and less time to tie up his hair.

A month later… his hair was back in a perfect topknot.


	4. pretentious players

4: Pretentious Players

Zuko glared as the actors took their last bows, huffing as he crossed his arms over his chest. His mother, to his left, clapped politely and his father, another seat over, stared on stoically. Azula had an odd smirk and was gazing intently at the stage as though it would spontaneously combust.

It filled Zuko with relief when they finally got up. Unfortunately, they did not leave as he had expected, but skirted around the curtain and behind the scenes. Zuko groaned inaudibly when he saw the players all lined up to greet the royal family.

Ozai gave a slow nod towards the director, but refrained from any talk beyond the necessary. Azula was hiding behind their father's robes with a bored expression, obviously uninterested. Ursa was walking around and praising each character with an amused glint in her eye.

It was only his mother's joy that stopped Zuko from complaining and asking when they were going home. He even bit back his distaste for the whole affair. Somehow the Ember Island Players managed to screw up every performance and their rendition of _'Love Amongst the Dragons'_ was the worst of them all.

Feeling like he was being watched, Zuko glanced around, unconsciously settling his stance more lightly for better movement.

Snorting at his foolishness when he saw nobody there, Zuko decided to explore a little. He wouldn't go out of his mother's line of sight, but anything was better than just standing there.

Turning, Zuko jumped as he came face to face with a grinning blue demon face with empty black eyes. Glaring, as if to say he hadn't actually been startled, Zuko put his hands on his hips. "You're the evil water spirit from the story, right?"

The masked actor gave a sharp nod and gracefully straightened from his crouch.

The prince's ire rose at the lack of verbal response and looked the man up and down to take in the shoddy looking shinobi shozoku he wore and the wooden prop swords fastened to his back. Really of the entire costume, the mask was the most well made part. It was carved from a single piece of wood and stained a shade of blue that managed to be both dull and eye-catching; the lighter portions were a dull blue so faded and pale it could just be called white.

Zuko frowned at the manic smile of that carved face and again found himself looking into the shadowed eyeholes.

He didn't realize he was staring until his mother's call broke him from his trance.

His eyes fell on her briefly as she waved to indicate they were leaving. When Zuko turned back the masked player was gone. As he moved to rejoin his family, Zuko only caught the vague shape of the mask floating in the deep shadows of the far back stage before his mother took his hand and led him after his father and sister.

"What did you think of the play?" Ursa asked, lightly squeezing his hand.

Zuko scowled, but a peek towards his mother wiped the severe expression away. "It was alright." He replied sullenly. "They had… cool costumes… and I suppose the stage affects were laudable, I guess."


	5. breathing exercises

5: Breathing Exercises

Zuko's brow furrowed as he sat impatiently in a meditation pose. He could feel the candle in front of him and his own inner fire, but he couldn't figure out how to synchronize them with his breathing!

Actually, he was having trouble steadying his breathing at all.

Apparently Uncle Iroh noticed. "Patience, Prince Zuko…" he drawled lazily, in his usual patient manner. "The point here is to relax your breathing first and control the fire second. Fire comes from the breath; to control the fire, first you must control your breath."

It irked Zuko; the way the older man could say something like he held all the secrets in the world, but would only say one of them at a time, and slowly at that! Another part of Zuko filed away the tip for later, to be used once he'd cooled down and was no longer so frustrated.

"I'm trying uncle!" The young prince snapped, "it's just soooooo boooooring and frustrating! Azula can do this easily, why can't I?"

Iroh raised one brow and stared at Zuko in amusement until the boy huffed and turned away, his sheepishness still apparent to Iroh's perceptive eyes beneath the anger. "Perhaps we should try something else…" Iroh mused.

Zuko looked up, anger forgotten as it gave way to curiosity and mild apprehension. "Like what?"

Iroh smiled innocuously, only adding to Zuko's suspicions. "Why don't you come back tomorrow and find out."

…

Zuko stood in Iroh's quarters, alternating between gaping and scowling in disgust. "You can't be serious! There is no way I'm even touching that thing!"

Iroh looked at the twisting instrument sitting innocently on its cushion. "I am very serious, young prince. Learning to play, will give you the proper breath control you need to excel at fire-bending."

"I am _not_ learning to play the tsungi horn!" Zuko reiterated, stomping one foot on the ground, crossing his arms, and lifting his nose imperiously. "They're stupid."

"Fire Lady Ursa likes them." Iroh quibbled, folding his arms across his belly peaceably.

"Don't bring mother into this." Zuko snapped. "You won't change my mind."

Iroh stroked his beard thoughtfully, "not even… if I were to… no, that wouldn't be fair to Azula."

Zuko's eyes widened, "what wouldn't be fair?"

Iroh hid a smirk by turning his head, "well, I was going to offer to teach you something not even Azula knows; a fire-bending technique I created myself."

Zuko frowned, before slowly sinking into a sitting position. "I'm listening."

The general grinned, "I call it 'breath of fire'. It's a defense against the cold, to which you know fire-benders are especially susceptible. It requires great control, but is very helpful in the instance of going against a water-bender's breath of ice."

Zuko hummed. It didn't sound all that useful, when was he likely to come across a water-bender, living in the Fire Nation? But, then again, it would be something he knew that Azula didn't. He could practically picture standing relaxed and warm while she shivered with cold. Besides, if it taught him control…

"If I… learn to play the tsungi horn, you will teach me this technique." The Fire Prince demanded.

"Of course", Iroh agreed.

"And you will not teach Azula." Zuko propositioned.

Iroh shrugged, "I will not teach her nor tell her about it." _Azula wouldn't be interested in learning something like this anyway._

Zuko nodded.

Iroh put a hand up to stop him from leaving, "before I will teach you this technique, you must be skilled enough that you would not be embarrassed to play in front of your mother."

Zuko flushed, but nodded resolutely. "Fine. I will become proficient at tsungi horn and you will teach me 'breath of fire'." Standing brusquely, Zuko hefted the instrument into his arms, feeling slightly small in comparison. Casting his uncle a last determined glance, Zuko excused himself.

He had a lot of practicing ahead of him.

…

Fortunately for him, Zuko turned out to be a natural when it came to playing the tsungi horn. It seemed only a short time later that he was playing to the delight of his mother and the satisfaction of his uncle.

As Iroh had predicted, the instrument aided greatly in Zuko's breathing meditations and the boy was well on his way to becoming skilled enough to learn 'breath of fire'.

Now would come the part where Iroh had to somehow explain to a brash child that 'breath of fire' was warming oneself by moving one's chi alone, rather than by moving one's body. For some reason, the prince had a hard time connecting breath and chi movement, rather than physical motion, with fire-bending.

Perhaps some old dragon stories were in order.


End file.
